


shrieking into the void of space

by leiaamidala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Brother-Sister Relationships, Canonical Character Death, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Leia Organa, Star Wars: The Force Awakens Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:28:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6474046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiaamidala/pseuds/leiaamidala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's hard to feel complete when the universe keeps tearing you apart. Leia-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shrieking into the void of space

**Author's Note:**

> TFA came out on my birthday, and it was simultaneously the best and worst present I could've gotten. Anyway, I've been itching to write some fic ever since (and have been greatly inspired by so many wonderful ones on here!) so here you go.
> 
> This didn't turn out the way I thought it would; but then again, I did write it at 3am while overcome with emotions about the strongest woman (nay, person) in the galaxy.

Her father once told her that when she was a baby, she cried a lot.

Leia had thought that was funny. She never cried. In fact, she felt a strange sense of pride whenever she saw other children cry; if she scraped her knee, she wouldn’t shed a tear. Rather, her pain incited a kind of anger deep within her, one she couldn’t comprehend, but one that could frighten even the bravest of the palace guards. Leia would stomp her feet on the offending patch of duracrete until the other kids ran off, and Bail had on more than one occasion been summoned to find her sat on the ground, fuming (and bleeding), not letting anyone except her father pick her back up.

“Papa says I cried a lot when I was a baby,” she says to her mother as she helps Leia braid her hair.

“You did,” replies Breha, fingers working a kind of magic Leia wishes she could learn.

“Why?”

Leia watches her mother shrug in the mirror and reach for a hairpin on the vanity. “You had a talent for finding things to be sad about.” Breha smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

 

It’s years later, when she finds out the truth of her family, that she understands. Understands her infant self, shrieking into the void of space, too young to do anything but feel the pain of being ripped from her other half. Luke.

 

*

 

Han makes her feel complete, for the first time in years. Every kiss, every night spent pressed against each other, coming together as one satisfies more than just her physical or even emotional need for him. It’s something deep, profound, almost spiritual.

 

She foolishly thinks it will last forever.

 

*

 

She cries a lot after Ben is born. Something that has been a part of her for so long has left her body, and no matter how tightly she holds him to his chest, she can’t seem to put herself back together again. Ben cries, too, but for a different reason. Snoke is already there, whispering his name, finding every shadow in his mind and twisting them into something dangerous.

 

This time, when she finally understands, it’s too late.

 

*

 

She sits in her bedroom, in front of her vanity, and takes down her hair. The sharp, searing pain of her son’s lightsaber piercing her heart (well, Han’s heart, but in that moment, there hadn’t been a difference) has dulled to a throbbing ache.

 

Leia Organa gazes at her reflection, and wonders if she will ever be whole.


End file.
